


Whisper Game

by alamorn



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: First Time, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeur Gives Directions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Sophos didn't expect his wedding night to go like this, but he's not complaining.





	Whisper Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minutia_R](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/gifts).



Sophos' hands were itching for his wife as they passed through the door into their chamber. _Wife_ , and wasn't that a fine word, especially applied to the woman in front of him? She had been warm under his hands when they danced earlier, and his lips were still tingling with the joy of their kisses.

She led him toward the bed and he went gladly until he saw the magus, setting aside a book. "Your Majesties," he said, rising and bowing. His eyes were proud, when he looked at Sophos, but for once that did not give Sophos pleasure, only a stomach twisting confusion. "My congratulations on this festive day."

"Magus," Helen said, her voice warm. "Did Eugenides give you too much trouble?"

"Always," the magus said.

"Magus," Sophos said, and the voice that came out of him was his king's voice, a voice he hated to hear. "It is always a pleasure to see you, but I must admit my confusion."

The magus glanced at Helen and she turned to Sophos, took his hands in hers. She was still warm under them, but he was not soothed. He’d known they’d grown close when she held the magus hostage but he’d never suspected… “I asked him to come. Gen snuck him in, and he can sneak back out if you want him gone. I thought only that it might be a comfort to you, to have some familiarity on this night."

"I'll go," the magus said. "It seems we were incorrect. My apologies, Sophos. It was never our intention to give offense."

He headed for a tapestry on the wall, where Sophos would have to ask Helen to show him the passage in the morning. Now, though -- "No," he blurted, not in his king's voice at all. "You would…help? With the…process?"

"The fucking, Sophos," Helen said, sitting on the bed and removing her shoes. "I thought…you seemed nervous, the past few weeks, whenever we grew near the topic."

The magus shot her a fondly censorious look. "When kings and queens do it, I believe it is called lovemaking."

"Oh?" she said, arching an eyebrow. "That seems silly."

"Heirmaking, then," the magus said. He still had not stepped away from the tapestry.

"But," Sophos broke in, "you… _will_ tell me what to do?"

The magus took a step towards him. "If that is what you want."

The heat was rising in Sophos' face, so hot that he feared he might be glowing with it. "Yes," he said.

The magus nodded, and headed back to his chair. "Undress her," he said. "If you can, before she undresses herself."

"I can't get out of this dress by myself anyway," Helen said. "You may safely perform this duty."

Sophos went over to her and she turned her back to allow him access to the fastenings of her dress. He brushed a finger over the knobs of her spine as they were revealed. She was warmer under the dress than above it, so warm he half thought he was holding the heart of the Hephestials in his hands.

"Kiss her," the magus said. His voice was deeper somehow, though when Sophos glanced at him, he seemed unaffected.

Sophos kissed her. They had kissed during the ceremony, and twice during the dinner, when he could not bear not to. This was different, deeper, more intimate. They did not have to be self-conscious of their audience here -- he was here to help, after all. He had told Sophos to do it.

It was…a great relief.

Helen turned in his arms, her dress sliding down her body to puddle at her feet, revealing new skin and new, confusing garments. Sophos ran his hand over them and was glad he had help to puzzle them out.

"Pull there," Helen said, and he did, and she was bare in his arms.

"Oh," he said, stupidly. His face was warm, as was his neck, and shoulders. There was so much blood in the top of him that he was surprised there was any left for his cock, but he was harder than he'd ever been, harder than the first time he'd imagined Helen's hands on him, harder than the first time he'd imagined the magus'. "Oh."

Helen smiled. She may not have been as beautiful as Attolia, but he would not change an inch of her, from her crooked nose, to her broad shoulders, to her capable hands.

"I'm very glad you married me," he said in a rush.

Helen laughed. "Perhaps you do not need the magus' help after all," she said, settling back on the bed. Despite her self-conscious manner of dress, he saw no self-consciousness here. She did not move to hide her body, instead staring boldly at his.

Oh. _Oh_. He would have to get naked too. She'd heard his stories, knew of his beatings and scars, but… He shot a terrified glance at the magus.

"If you're nervous," the magus said, "I've not yet met a lady who did not like to receive her pleasure before the act as well as during."

Sophos stared, uncomprehending.

"Put your clever tongue to use," Helen said. "Or shall I tell you how the act originated? There are several versions of the tale, but I most prefer --"

He cut her off with a kiss. "No stories," he said, sinking to his knees in front of her. "Not tonight. Later, perhaps."

"Part her knees," the magus said, so Sophos did. Doing so revealed a thatch of curly hair and the heady smell of Helen's arousal. He pressed a kiss to her inner knee, gazing at what was before him. "Now use your fingers to part her lips."

She was damp to the touch, and when he glanced up at her, she petted his hair fondly, gazing down at him.

"Lick her."

Her flavor burst onto his tongue, utterly unlike anything he had ever tasted before. He was not sure he would like it, except that it was Eddis, Helen, his wife, and he loved her, and so it did not matter.

"Higher." That was Helen, and when he did not find what she meant she tugged at his hair, and her own hand appeared between her thighs, fingers framing a nub of flesh. "There. Focus on that. Not directly, yet. Around it."

When he did as she said, her breathing shifted, a little faster, a little shallower. He was so hard it was almost painful, so he reached down to palm himself, searching for relief in the slightest bit of friction.

When the magus’ hand replaced his own, he moaned his surprise directly into Helen. Her hand tightened to a fist in his hair and the muscles of her thighs jumped. He wasn’t sure which was better — the magus’ strong hand, drawing him from his pants and stroking him, or Helen’s sweet gasps.

Sophos feared he would spill too early and make a fool of himself. It was all too much, too overwhelming, but just when he grew perilously close to the edge, the magus’ hand disappeared from his cock and drifted up his body, closing on his jaw and drawing him back to a kiss. Helen made a noise of complaint, but not a loud one, and when the magus broke the kiss and Sophos opened his eyes, the magus looked surprised, and his chin was covered with secondhand slick.

“My apologies, Your Majesties,” he said. “I did not—“

“I don’t think we need to stand on formality here and now,” Helen said, her hand busy working between her thighs. “In fact, I find the idea ridiculous. You are free to kiss my husband, magus. You are even free to kiss me.”

The magus held very still for a moment, and then it was like some string of tension was cut. He sagged against Sophos’ back, impossibly warm and present. Sophos felt he might burn up before the night was through, caught between such heat.

“As you say,” the magus said, and stood, leaving Sophos’ back cold. The magus sat next to Helen on the bed and kissed her, deeply. Sophos’ neglected cock throbbed, watching it.

When the magus’ hand drifted to one of her breasts, Sophos stood and pressed himself against Helen’s back, showering kisses over the nape of her neck, her shoulders. Heat rose in him again, and he tugged at his collar, trying to free himself without breaking from Helen and the magus.

The magus drew away from Helen. “Sophos is right,” he murmured, and it thrilled down Sophos’ back, raising his skin into goosebumps. “He’s overdressed.”

Helen turned to him with a laugh, eagerly helping him unbutton his shirt, shoving his pants down, so he could kick them off, until he was bare next to her. His scars did not matter half as much as he’d feared, he discovered. Her hands smoothed over them without comment, though the magus stared sadly.

Helen shifted up the bed, drawing him up with her. He knelt between her legs, and the magus passed a hand over the back of his neck, then left them, sitting once more in his chair. Now, though, there was no pretending he was unaffected — an erection tented the front of his pants, and as Sophos watched, the magus drew out his cock and began to stroke, slowly.

“Why have you stopped?” the magus asked. “You haven’t finished the job.”

Helen laughed into his mouth as he dropped to kiss her once more. She licked his lip teasingly as he drew away and he had to press his forehead to hers for a moment and savor that this was real, it was happening.

“I love you,” he said, and felt his blush grow darker.

She kissed him again, and then her hands were at his back, pressing him into place at her entrance. “I love you, too,” she said, and nudged him forward again. She was molten where his cock pushed against her, and he reached down, fumbled himself into line with the entrance he’d seen when he was on his knees before her.

“Do it,” the magus said, his voice hoarse and commanding, a tone that Sophos was well-used to obeying.

She felt — he didn’t know how to put it into words. He dropped his forehead to her breastbone and scattered kisses over the flushed expanse of her collarbones, her breasts, her pebbled nipples. “I love you,” he said between kisses. “I…”

“Sh,” she said, framing his face with her hands and turning his chin up so he looked at her. “I know. Move.”

Slowly, he did so. It was a different motion than anything he was used to, and his muscles protested, but, as with his time as a slave, it was only a matter of time before he adjusted. When he felt a little more confident, he took one of her breasts in his hand, brushing his thumb over her nipple.

The magus’ commands grew sparser, his voice hoarser, a welcome and thrilling counterpoint to Helen’s murmurings of, “There, slower.” The world was narrow and warm. There was nothing outside of this room, Helen’s legs around his waist, the magus’ commands in his ears.

When he spilled, it was overwhelming. All the muscles in his body drew tight and then relaxed, leaving him boneless and languid. Helen petted his side and then slapped it. “Off,” she said. “You’re crushing me.”

He rolled off, and she shifted restlessly. “Magus,” she said, commanding, and the magus rose from his seat and dragged her to the edge of the bed, and knelt before her, putting his mouth where Sophos had been so recently.

“This is a rather more enjoyable type of diplomacy than I’m used to,” he said and Helen laughed breathlessly, flailing out a hand to catch his.

When the magus brought her over her own edge, she squeezed Sophos’ hand tight enough to hurt.

He found himself drowsing as the two of them shifted around the room. When he managed to pry his eyes open, they were sitting with their knees together in the chairs by the window. Helen was wrapped in comfortable robe, and they were speaking in low voices, looking pleased. How many nights had they spent like that while she held him captive?

He’d ask in the morning. And he’d ask if, perhaps, he could feign first time nerves a time or two more.


End file.
